


Coupled States

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Sentinel Senses, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7028329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sentinel Fusion. Sentinels and Guides are unknown on Atlantis, but when something goes wrong with the ATA gene therapy, John and Rodney are caught up in everything that becoming a Sentinel and Guide means. References the episode <i>Hide and Seek</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coupled States

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the _Love Springs Forth Challenge_. Originally written in four parts to meet the four pieces of the challenge, I've combined them into one story here.

**Coupled States** Two or more quantum systems are bound such that a change in one of the quantum states in one of the systems will cause an instantaneous change in all of the bound systems.

*** 

Finally, John had a few minutes with nothing scheduled. Hallelujah. He decided to use the time to hunt down Dr. McKay. Walking around a city built by an alien race was cool in a way John had never imagined in his wildest dreams. Rodney McKay got that. Unlike some of the scientists, he didn't let his smarts overshadow his honest amazement. John had seen the kid-like joy in his eyes more than once.

If he just happened to mention how Atlantis practically begged and showed its belly for John to rub… well, seeing McKay turn green with envy and sputter was always good for a grin. 

He entered the lab just in time to see McKay practically bouncing off the walls. 

"Sheppard! I'm glad you're here. I wanted you to be the first to know. Carson's gene therapy is finally ready for the first human test subject." Grinning, Rodney pointed at his own chest. "Me."

"You're sure you want to be the first?" Sheppard watched as McKay stopped pacing, yet still managed to look like he was vibrating in place.

"Don't sound so skeptical, Sheppard. I'll be fine." Rodney checked his watch for the third time in the last thirty seconds. "Oh good, Carson should be ready for me. Can't keep progress waiting, you know. Hey, do you want to come with?"

"I'll pass." John shook his head. "You have all the subtly of a two-year old in front of a bowl of ice cream, you know that, right?"

"Very funny, Major." 

Rodney reached out to pat John's shoulder. His hand hovered there for moment, but he pulled away at the last minute and his face flushed an interesting shade of red. They were hardly bosom buddies, but John liked to think they were at least becoming friends. "Something on your mind, McKay?"

"Um, yes, well, after the gene therapy takes, I've got a few ideas I want to test out. I think it would be better if you're there too."

John narrowed his eyes. "You're betting a lot on the success of this. You do know there's a chance it won't work."

Rodney blew off John's concern with an airy wave. "But there's every chance it will work and I for one am going to assume it will until proven otherwise. Besides, there's no one that deserves full access to the Ancient tech more than I do. Ah, you know I'm right."

Amused, John held his hands up in surrender. "Have it your way. What exactly do you have planned for your shiny, new gene?"

"Oh, the usual," Rodney said, with a show of unconcerned innocence. "Initializing the control chair, seeing if I can light up an Ancient gizmo or two – taking a jumper for a spin…."

"Stop right there."

"Oh? Is the big, brave Major afraid to let me pilot one of his precious babies all by myself?" 

"You're not –" John sighed, defeated. "Just radio me when you find out if – when – it works."

***

John shook his head as Rodney bounded away toward the infirmary. He wondered if he should've mentioned that Dr. Beckett was using his DNA for the gene therapy. No, it wasn't like it would make any difference and he could always tease Rodney about it later. 

Just in case the gene therapy did work without a hitch, John decided a trip to the Jumper bay was in order. He wanted to go over Jumper One with a fine tooth comb and just maybe make a few apologies to the old girl in advance. 

Between his scheduled meeting with Dr. Weir and an impromptu meeting with Halling – the two really needed to start talking to each other – it was hours before he made it to the Jumper bay. John hated getting caught in the middle of Athosian vs. Earth culture conflicts. Yes, he'd asked Teyla to be on his team, but he suspected the reason they got along so well had more to do with her tolerance than it did with any insight on his part. 

He'd barely opened the jumper's hatch when the first screech of a dozen discordant noises blasted through the bay. His first thought was that Atlantis had sounded off an alarm. He nixed that idea when the volume kept increasing, bringing John to his knees. He clasped his hands tightly over his ears and tried to ride it out.

The lights were suddenly so bright he couldn't see and he fumbled against the pain until he could get his aviators out of his pocket and over his eyes. It helped but not much. Hell, he hoped the unrelenting noise wouldn't deafen him permanently, but he couldn't worry about that now. He had to find out who or what was attacking his city. 

Grabbing the edge of the jumper, he used it to pull himself upright. The jumper's normally smooth surface felt pitted and rough under his hand. What the fuck was going on?

He'd sort it out later. Right now, he needed to get to the control room and find out how much shit they were in. John hoped like hell McKay had some miracle up his ass that could fix this disaster.

The last thing he expected was to literally trip over McKay on the way. Great, they were in the middle of the corridor, he was still half-blind, and McKay lay underneath him curled up in ball and sobbing like a baby. There was so much wrong here that John wondered if the attack on their senses was beginning to affect both their minds.

Back on his feet, John grabbed a fistful of Rodney's shirt and hauled him up. Once they were nose to nose, the noise and glare dropped to a reasonable level. He could clearly see Rodney's red-rimmed eyes and pale, tear-streaked cheeks. "McKay, where are you hurt?"

"I'm not. I don't think." Rodney pulled away and patted the front of his chest. "Is there blood?"

"Can't see any." The lights began strobing again, and John grabbed Rodney's arm. Immediately the lights dimmed, falling to a normal level. "McKay, what do you know about the attack? Was anyone else hurt?"

Rodney pulled himself together. His eyes might be red but his sneer was right on the money. "We're not under attack, Major."

John gaped at the sheer gall of the statement. It crossed his mind that McKay might be suffering some kind of brain damage, and he held onto him, unwilling to let him out of his sight. Now that the clamoring had stopped, he tried his radio. "Sgt. Bates, report. Is everyone all right?"

"We'll all fine, Major. It there some reason we shouldn't be, sir?"

"No one reported anything unusual?" John asked carefully. 

"No, sir."

"Have the patrols check in, and get back to me. I'm taking Dr. McKay to the infirmary, Sheppard out." 

Even with Atlantis back to normal, he still felt like shit, and McKay didn't look any better, but they made it, propping each other up the entire way. 

He figured they both looked as bad as he'd thought because Dr. Beckett took one look at them standing just outside the infirmary door and immediately called for a gurney. 

John held up his hand. "We can make it. Just give us a minute. "

They moved forward slowly, under Dr. Beckett's concerned eye, but neither of them had collapsed. John would take it as a win. 

From his bed, he could see Rodney huddled in the cot next to him, looking pale and diminished. It made no sense, but John couldn't shake the feeling that Rodney was further away from him than he should be. He shook his head and winced. "Can't you turn the lights down, Doc?"

"I've dimmed them as low as they'll go, Major, and still let me see well enough to do my job."

John frowned. What the hell was going on?

Carson handed John his shades. "Put these back on. It should help. I'll get to you in a moment, Major. I have a few questions for Rodney while we wait for the results of your bloodwork. 

Rodney sniffled into a tissue adding to a small pile next to his bedside. "My chest hurts, Carson, can't you do anything about that? And for pity's sake, stop worrying so hard, it's only making things worse."

"You can tell how I'm feeling? Is that why you were…" Dr. Beckett paused, seemingly at a loss as how to finish his question.

"Why I turned into an ineffectual, gibbering ball of screaming tears, unable to get up off the floor until Sheppard here, tripped over me? Yes, Carson, I can feel your feelings and everyone else's in the city. I need you to make it stop."

"Rodney, I'm sorry, but I don't know what caused this…." Carson began.

"And you're a worried, gibbering wreck because you're not sure you can fix it. Thank you very much for emoting that all over the place." McKay's lips formed a tight, crooked line and John waited for the next verbal explosion.

McKay snorted. "What about you, Major? You seem to be the only one with a modicum of control over their emotions." 

"Don't look at me, I don't have any idea what's going on." The loud, discordant noises had dulled to a throbbing presence settling somewhere behind his eye sockets – unpleasant but bearable. "Uh, how are you managing right now?" John asked.

"I'm keeping a mental loop running of my Nobel acceptance speech; it helps drown out all that other crap. Although, I must admit, the rush of relief when I found out I wasn't pregnant was something I could actually sympathize with."

It might have gone on like that – blankly staring at each other, neither of them with a clue about what to do or say next, if one of the nurses hadn't dropped an instrument tray.

The sharp clatter pierced John's hearing like a hot poker through his brain. He clutched his head, the agony in his ears leaving him gasping for breath.

"Stop!" Rodney yelled. "For the love of Feynman, everybody stop feeling so shocked and god-damn guilty!"

John managed to pull himself together long enough to see McKay huddled on the bed with his knees clutched to his chest and digging his fingernails into his shins. Thankfully, the noise was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Some genius had thrown a pillow down on top of mess, damping the noise and stopping the sound vibrations in their tracks.

"Leave it. I'll pick it up later," Dr. Beckett whispered to the nurse. "I have a much better idea of what's going on now. Nobody make a sound and someone make sure the damn intercom is off."

He slipped off his shoes and moved quietly over to John's bedside. "I'm going to arrange a few tests,– for you too, Rodney. Meanwhile, I want the two of you to stay right here until I get back." 

John nodded, just grateful for the sudden quiet. The minutes ticked away and Dr. Beckett still hadn't returned but he had a wild idea for something that might just help.

"McKay, get over here." John patted his bedside. The stuff felt like sandpaper. Hm, so not that different from your average hospital sheet. He slid his legs over to make room for Rodney to sit. 

Frowning, Rodney ungracefully climbed up on the bed, his knee bumping against John's hip. It wasn't skin to skin contact but John felt better immediately. 

"Does this help?" John asked.

"Well ….I don't feel quite so much like ripping the IOA's metaphorical throat out and then crying into my pancakes over it."

"There's usually there's less crying and more gloating while you pour the syrup on your pancakes, so I guess you must be feeling better."

"Oddly, yes." Rodney squirmed on the bed, apparently trying to get comfortable. His face turned that flushed shade of red again when he asked, "Do you think skin-to- skin would be more effective?"

"Not going there, Emo-boy, so you can forget about that right now." John shifted, bending his knee so that Rodney could lean back against more of his leg. His headache eased as the warmth between them settled in. 

"You really thought we were under attack?" Rodney asked.

"It seemed the most reasonable explanation for everything going to hell." John shrugged. "It sure felt like it. Blinding pain, sharp stabs of light, shrieking noise so loud I thought it would bust my eardrums – the only thing missing was the stunner fire. I had no idea it was just me having all the fun."

"Sounds awful." Rodney's hand crept up until his little finger bumped up against John's bare elbow where it rested on the bed.

"You weren't having such a grand time yourself according to Dr. Beckett." John carefully kept his arm right where it was, loath to jostle Rodney's finger. It shouldn't matter. His logical brain kept telling him that, but it did.

"Hm, can't say I was thrilled to be the net catching everyone else's emotional turmoil," Rodney admitted. 

"What's on your mind?' John asked. It was clear to him something was bugging McKay. He'd settled down some since they'd been in the infirmary, his color was better, but his eyes kept darting around the room, and he refused to look at John.

"Dr. Kane and Sgt. Wilcox. I'm not sure if I should be telling this or not; it's not like I wanted to invade their privacy." Rodney's shoulders slumped. Finally, he lifted his gaze to look John in the eye.

"Is it something that will keep them from doing their job?" John asked.

"Maybe? It's not like we aren't all scared shitless since we found out about the Wraith."

John knew where this was going and held back a sigh. "And these two are having a harder time with it than everyone else." Well, it wasn't exactly unexpected. Any sane person should be scared shitless. "I'll speak to Dr. Weir and get her to have them talk to Heightmeyer."

"Well, that's a start." Rodney's thin, bitter smile was John's only clue that the situation with Dr. Kane and Sgt. Wilcox was worse than he'd imagined. Were they suicidal? A danger to the expedition? 

He needed a better handle on the situation and the only way to get that was to ask McKay. "What did you…?" Damn it, he wasn't about to ask about feelings. John quickly rephrased the question in his head. "What did you sense?"

"Doom. Crushing, oppressing doom, if you must know." This time there was a flicker of genuine humor in Rodney's slanted smile. "I'm thinking of sending each of them my list of _Ways to die in the Stargate Program_. I'm sure it has things on it they haven't begun to think of."

"That's very generous of you, McKay."

They stayed like that for a while, Rodney leaning against his leg and John ignoring the places where they touched. His thoughts strayed, caught up in a loop of questions. What would Dr. Beckett find, could he cure it, or was this was going to be his new normal? His stomach felt queasy and John was determined to ignore that too.

Next to him, McKay snorted and John had a sneaky suspicion that McKay knew exactly how he felt about all of this.

***

The last thing he expected was that he'd fall asleep, but he must have because John woke up with that nasty, gluey feeling of his eyelids sticking together. Before he had a chance to rub his eyes, Rodney was holding out a water glass complete with straw and encouraging him to drink.

"And before you ask, no, I didn't eavesdrop on your feelings and I didn't use some kind of voodoo to sense that you were thirsty. But you were sleeping with your mouth open and from the amount of drool left on the pillow, I figured you'd need to rehydrate."

"You're all heart, McKay." Moving carefully, John took a long, slow sip of water, relieved to find that it didn't taste like anything except water. Maybe this thing with his senses was taking care of itself and would go away, never to return. He sure as hell hoped so.

He couldn't believe he'd dozed off with McKay sitting right next to him. John couldn't put his finger on it—hell he didn't want his finger anywhere near it—but there was something restful about Rodney McKay's presence. He looked down to see McKay's hand resting loosely on his bare knee and lifted an eyebrow in question.

"You got a little restless while you were sleeping; this seemed to help."

John couldn't help noticing that McKay kept his hand exactly where was. He decided to ignore it since that had worked for him pretty well so far. "How long...?" 

"You were dead to the world for about fifteen minutes, Major. You didn't miss anything, if that's what you're asking. Carson stuck his head in here once, twiddled his stethoscope, sighed, and then went back behind the curtain. Oh look, speak of the devil, here he is now."

Dr. Beckett kept his expression carefully neutral. John figured that couldn't be good. He didn't miss the flash of guilt in the doc's eyes either. McKay must have seen it too, or maybe he felt it because his hand tightened on John's knee.

"The tests came back, and now at least I have some answers for you." Dr. Beckett took a step closer and his expression turned sympathetic. "It's the gene therapy, you see, and Rodney's genetic makeup reacted in a way I couldn't anticipate."

"That explains McKay's symptoms," John said, scowling, "but what about mine?"

"Ah, that's what truly unusual about this case, forgive me, Rodney, I don't mean to imply that your symptoms aren't entirely unique as well, but Major Sheppard's symptoms have no rational explanation." 

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Voodoo. I knew it."

Dr. Beckett offered up a weak smile. "It's as if the Major's body got caught in a backlash of your symptoms, Rodney. No, I don't know how but because you're affected, he is as well, though your symptoms have manifested somewhat differently.

"You're describing a state of quantum entanglement." Rodney threw his hands up in the air. "And of course my particles would wind up in an entangled paradox with someone like Sheppard, instead of with someone like – oh, say – Samantha Carter. That is so unfair."

"Quantum backlash, Doc? That's a thing?" John's knee felt cold in the absence of McKay's hand but he certainly wasn't going to ask him to put it back.

Beckett blinked. "Apparently so. I'll need to research it further, I'm afraid." 

"I'm sure all of this is as clear as mud to Sheppard, and I'm just as certain you aren't going to pull a medical miracle out of your… little black doctor's bag to cure …" McKay turned to John. "Quantum backlash, are we really calling it that?" He turned back to Dr. Beckett and wearily asked, "Can we go now?"

"Aye. There's no real reason to keep you here now that your symptom have abated. I suggest peace and quiet for both of you and a good night's sleep. But I expect you to check in with me tomorrow for more tests, and of course, I'll need to know immediately if your symptoms flare up."

McKay jumped down off the bed. "There's something I want to look into. Sheppard, when you get a few minutes, please come by my lab."

John watched him leave with a growing feeling of good riddance. He left the infirmary a little slower and more cautiously, not wanting to do anything that could trigger his senses. It seemed like McKay had gotten off easy compared to John's troubles. In fact, this whole thing was beginning to look more and more like McKay's fault.

By the time he reached his quarters, his annoyance had grown into full-blown anger. John stopped just short of putting his fist through his bedroom wall. No, he had a much better idea. He'd go straight to the lab and give Rodney-fucking-McKay a piece of his mind for dragging him into this mess. 

***

Violence wasn't the answer; John knew that even as the red haze of anger flared behind his eyeballs. He didn’t even remember how he got here, but he had his fists curled into McKay's shirt and had the man pressed up against the lab wall. He barely felt Dr. Zelenka's hands tugging on his arm or heard him saying, "Major Sheppard, please, you must let go."

Zelenka was persistent, he had to give him that. John figured it was the panicked _please_ that finally got through to him.

Darkness flickered at the edge of his vision. Still shaking, he loosened his grip on McKay. What the hell was wrong with him? He never lost his temper like this. Even when he'd been in a black mood, he still preferred outwitting his opponent to physical violence. He'd never done anything like this and certainly not to a civilian. 

He was still hanging on McKay's shirt but now he did it to reassure himself that the man was okay. "Oh God, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. Did I hurt you?"

Now that his anger had passed, he got his first good look at McKay. Rodney's skin was gray and clammy. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Because he could, John laid his hand over Rodney's heart and listened to his quick, fluttering heartbeat. That couldn't be good. "Easy buddy, take slow deep breaths. I think we'd better have Dr. Beckett take a look at you."

Rodney's hand clamped around John's wrist with an iron clad grip. "No. Give me a minute, I'll be fine." He drew a shaky breath. "It's everyone's damned feelings; they're screwing up my body chemistry. I can't rest, I can't eat, and a few minutes ago, I made a mistake in my math that could have gotten us all blown up. Thank God Zelenka caught it."

He straightened up and solidly pushed John away with one hand. "Stand down, Major. Believe me when I tell you I know exactly what you're feeling. Ironically, you're the one person I'm not mad at. If anything, you probably picked up on my anger and frustration. I just don't have the luxury of pinning my annoyances to the wall."

"Oh." John frowned. "That would explain a lot, actually." Okay, so maybe McKay hadn't gotten off as easy as he'd thought. He stood there, floundering for the next step. Hell, he didn't even know what the next step was, let alone how to get to there from here. 

McKay's voice fell softly against his ear. It was surprisingly soothing after the day's abuse on his eardrums. 

"It's all right, Sheppard. We're going to figure this out." Rodney stood close enough to bump shoulders with. "Lucky for us, I just happen to be the smartest man in two galaxies."

"Well, that inspires all kinds of confidence." John could think of a dozen snarky things to add to that. Instead, he leaned over just enough so that their shoulders brushed.

***

"A fun barrel of monkeys this isn't." John glared down at the row of shot glasses neatly arranged in a line. Each one appeared colorless and odorless but Carson had doctored each separately with a microscopic amount of additive. It was up to John to figure out what they were by taste.

"Like it or not, Major Sheppard," Carson said firmly, "we need to find the new baseline for your senses before we can make any progress." 

"So you think there is a chance you can cure this?" John picked up the first glass and gave it a cautious sniff. He hadn't missed the fact that the Carson hadn't answered him. Before he could press the issue, John's eyes began to water. "What the hell did you put in this stuff? This could peel the paint off a rocket launcher."

Carson checked his clipboard, then looked up at John, his eyes wide, and startled. "It's only vinegar. Just a trace, I used less than 100 ppm."

"I think we're done for today, Doc. We're not going to find a baseline if I can't get near the stuff. Besides, I have a meeting with Dr. Weir in ten," John lied.

He began backing out of the infirmary as he talked. "We can try this again tomorrow." He was through the door before Carson had time to protest. John turned and ran smack into McKay.

"Ow." Rodney rubbed his arm. "And to think, I thought, having heightened senses would keep you from running into people. How silly of me."

"Cut me some slack, McKay. None of this is easy you know."

"Actually I do know and that's what I'm here for, to see if I can help." Rodney glanced over John's shoulder towards the infirmary door. "But not here."

"Lead on." Whether John wanted to admit it or not he felt more in control when McKay was around. He figured the least he could do was see what Rodney had in mind.

John followed him into one of the recently cleared areas. The room Rodney entered was small but had escaped any water damage. Too small for a conference room and too remote to be living quarters, their best guess to date was that it served as a someone's private lab. Probably why McKay had latched onto it, and claimed it as his own.

"I see you've made yourself at home." Looking around, John could see that someone had moved in a long, narrow bench and a couple of chairs. A small desk sat crammed in the corner. There wasn't much room for anything else. 

Rodney hit a few computer keys and the lights dimmed. With another keystroke, the soft monotonous sound of white noise filled the room. "Is that better?" Rodney asked quietly.

"Yeah." John rubbed at his temple surprised that the low-grade headache he'd had for hours was gone.

"Carson's not wrong about getting a new baseline for your senses, but he's going about it backwards. What we have to do first, Major, is find a way for you to get them under control. After that we can determine what your range is."

That sounded good to John. He was sick of bouncing all over the place as far as his senses went. Sounds were too loud one minute and the next they were so muffled he thought he was going deaf. His vision wasn't any better. What if he went blind while trying to fly, or during a mission critical moment?

His gaze met McKay's. They both knew off world missions were out of the question until this could be resolved. "What do you have in mind?" John asked.

"Picture a gyroscope." Rodney said.

John's eyebrows rose. "You want me to imagine finding the horizon line and use that comparison to level off my senses."

"Bingo." Rodney grinned. "Major, don't let anyone ever tell you you're not smarter than you look."

"Gee, Rodney, thanks." John paused. "So, you really think this will help?"

"I think you already know what normal is for you. I'm betting that using something you're very familiar with will give you the tool you need bring your senses in line." 

"Let's do it," John said. After thirty seconds he scowled. "There's too much pitch, I can't…" His eyes widened in amazement. "I can hear your heart beat."

Rodney nodded. "Definitely too high on the scale," he whispered softly. "I'm going to start talking and gradually raise my voice to a normal level. I'll keep talking until you say it sounds normal to you. I'm turning off the white noise now."

John struggled to find his horizon line while Rodney talked. He talked about the experiments he and Radek were working on, and his scheme to streamline their power consumption. He kept talking. By the time he got to the jumper modifications he wanted to make, John had his hearing under control. 

John gave him a thumbs up. "Okay, it's good."

"There's no reason we can't use the same principle for your other senses."

"Good. That's good. Do vision next." That was one worry John couldn't wait to eliminate. 

"That should be easy. Find something to focus on, something that you're familiar with. Since you might be staring at it for few minutes, I suggest you pick something pleasing to look at."

Of everything in the room, John hadn't meant for that thing to be Rodney's face. Yet, surprisingly he'd grown comfortably familiar with it. Probably because of all the times Rodney had handed him some Ancient gizmo and asked him to turn it on. 

It came easier this time. Rodney's slanted mouth and sharp, blue eyes fell into his normal range of vision quickly. "Got it."

Rodney hummed over his computer. "That was quick. Presumably it will get even easier with practice."

"Yeah." He rolled his shoulders, the tension finally bleeding off. Working with Rodney seemed a lot easier than it had been with Carson. And, if it meant he could get his life back to normal, John intended to practice the hell out of it. 

"What about you?" John asked. 

Rodney brushed off his question with an abrupt wave of his hand. "I think that's enough for today. We can try tomorrow for touch, taste, and smell. With a crooked smile he added, "I can think of a few times when a muted smell would come in handy."

John grinned knowing they were both thinking the same thing – the stench from lab three after Dr. Simpson's experiment went very wrong.

Without another word, Rodney headed out the door. John decided to follow him. There was something not quite right in the way he evaded John's question. Something was wrong, and he intended to find out what.

He gave Rodney time to get settled and then he knocked on the door. "Hey, it's Sheppard, let me in."

John checked his watch. It was taking Rodney a lot longer to answer his door than it should have. "I'm not going away, so get over here and answer the damn door before I ask Atlantis to do it for me."

Rodney opened the door. "Can you really get the city to open doors for you?"

"Don't know yet, I haven't tried." John shouldered past Rodney and came to a dead stop inside the room. The place was stripped down and packed up. It looked like Rodney was in the process of packing the last box. "What's going on, McKay?"

"I'm moving." Rodney folded his arms across his chest, clearly prepared to defend his argument.

"Where? Why?" John asked. He held up his hand as a peace offering. "Help me understand what's going on here."

"I'm too close to people here. People with their messy emotions, their stupid nightmares, and their constant freaking out about the Wraith, or the city floating defenseless on top of the ocean, or the fact we don't have enough power, that we can't dial Earth…." Rodney waved his hands in the air. "It's too much. I have to get away from it."

"I thought it was better. I mean it doesn't seem to bother you when I'm around." John replayed that last sentence in his head. "That's it, isn't it? You're only okay when I'm around."

"Yes. But don't let it go to your head, Sheppard," Rodney snapped.

John took a deep breath. "Okay, where are we moving to?"

"I'm moving to the Eastside tower at L5. It's the tower furthest from everyone else that still has a working transporter decently close by."

"Wasn't that area flooded?" asked John.

"It's dry now. It is structurally sound, I checked. Granted, it's not pretty but I'm not moving there for the ambience."

John clapped his hand down on Rodney's shoulder. "I'll get some Marines to move our stuff. The tower has a bunch of rooms, right? It'll be kind of nice to have it all that space to ourselves."

"John, the place is like a warehouse. I can't ask you to move into that," Rodney protested.

"So we toss in a few throw pillows. It will be fine." John picked up the remaining box and moved toward the door. "Besides, it sounds exactly like the kind of place I need if I'm going to keep working on controlling my senses." 

Joining him Rodney asked, "So, you're not trying to get rid of them now? What brought on this change of heart?"

"Let's just say, I think they might turn out to be useful, and I'm willing to wait and see."

Because, whether he wanted to admit it or not walking down the hallway with Rodney at his side made him feel like anything was possible.

*** 

John felt perfectly justified in blaming Ford. The young lieutenant had an irrepressible zest when it came to helping others and this time he'd thrown his enthusiasm into helping him and McKay move into their new place. Between them and the impromptu crew Ford roped into helping, it made damn short work of moving. Granted, he'd probably be finding stray popcorn kernels for a week, but at least the hard work was over.

They had the place to themselves now and all it had cost was a promise of hosting a movie night in some vague future. John was in the middle of unpacking one of the boxes when he felt the hairs creep up on the back of his neck. He looked up to see Rodney's distraught face. 

"What's wrong?" John asked.

"I thought you should know. What you said before – when you're here it does help."

Yeah, he'd known. Rodney had kept close to his side as their place filled with people. He hadn't said a word when Rodney's breathing grew erratic, but he'd made sure that when he handed Rodney the popcorn their hands brushed. 

After that, he did what he could by staying close and sneaking in small, unobtrusive touches. He even pretended to ignore it when Rodney twisted his fingers into John's shirt and held on. Hell, there were a few times when the noise got too loud that he wanted to hang onto Rodney, too. 

Something else was up and John waited patiently for his friend to continue.

Rodney stood there, red faced and as close to wringing his hands as John had ever seen anyone actually do before finally saying, "I hate being dependent on anyone. You know that. So, thank you. I don't know how long I could have kept going without your help."

"Don't worry about it," John said. "Sure, I'd like to figure this out ASAP so that we can get back to normal."

"I broke down in the mess," Rodney blurted. "It was late and no one else was around. But I can't keep doing that and still do my job. "

John nodded carefully, at a loss as to how to help. 

Instead of elaborating, Rodney turned away and busied himself opening the rest of the boxes. He pulled out a coffee maker and smiled for the first time that day. "Be right back."

John followed him into their kitchen and watched as Rodney began the process of brewing a pot of coffee. John wasn't much of a cook. He was more of a – burn it on the grill – kind of guy, but he couldn't help feeling a little jazzed that they had their own kitchen. 

"I see you made a few modifications." Yep, Rodney had definitely made a few. John peered closer that the contraption Rodney had the coffee maker plugged into. "Where did you get the crystals?"

"No place that's going to miss them. Watch." Rodney passed his hand over his jury-rigged device and coffee immediately began brewing. "Theoretically, I should be able to turn it on just by thinking 'On' at it."

John didn't even try to hold back his laugh. "Only you, McKay."

"I know it lacks a certain elegance, but I can fix that later." He lifted his palm, waving it in John's face. "And, you owe me a flying lesson," Rodney said, beaming back at him.

John's next words strangled in this throat as he was suddenly hit with the desire to hug Rodney. Maybe more than hug. Fuck. All this touching between the two of them wasn't just a way to keep each other from falling off the edge. Not by a long shot. 

"Are you all right?" Rodney lowered his voice to a soft cadence. "John, find your horizon. Concentrate on the sound of my voice."

"Lay off. It's not that." He ran a hand through his hair feeling like a heel for snapping, but god, he didn't feel ready for this. 

Taking a step back, he looked at Rodney's concerned face and watched as his expression turned into something hard and indifferent. 

"Fine!" Shoulders stiff, Rodney turned his back on him. He fussed about with the coffee maker and refused to look in John's direction. 

"Hey, I'm sorry for snapping. Look, I'm glad the gene is working for you, at least you got something good out of all this, but…I'm not ready to. I'm not ready. 

Rodney's hands stilled. "It's the sex thing, isn't it?" He sighed. "I'm assuming you just realized the direction this entanglement between us is heading."

"You knew? And you're okay with that?" 

"Oh, there are so many ways to answer that, Sheppard."

Rodney finally turned to face him and John found himself fascinated by down sweep of Rodney's mouth. He fought back the urge to trace its curve with his thumb. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I'm going to keep this simple, John. No, I'm not put off by the idea of sex with a man, or more specifically, sex with you. Do I want to go there? Well that depends. I'm not looking for emotional declarations. Over the last few days I've had enough feelings shoved at me to last a lifetime. However, I do require that my partner isn't disgusted with the idea of having sex with me." Rodney dusted his hands off. "Your turn."

"You know, I'm just going to go for a run now."

John ran. He didn't get very far. Remembering the look on Rodney's face when he'd said the word _disgusted_ stopped him in his tracks. Surely, Rodney knew – he was Emo-boy for god's sakes – he had to know that John's problem was just the opposite. 

*** 

At the end of a long week, John sat in Elizabeth Weir's office determined to put his best foot forward. 

"I'm fine now Dr. Weir. No more trouble with the senses. Dr. McKay's tricks have really helped, but don't tell him that. It will just go to his head." 

He plastered on the most charming smile he owned. "If you could just persuade Dr. Beckett to put me back on full duty my team and I can get back out there and find you a ZPM."

His team needed back on the roster for off world rotation. Not just because they needed a ZPM or because he had a job to do. But because things were on the edge of falling apart. 

Teyla's people wanted to leave Atlantis and move to the mainland. John knew he couldn't afford to lose Teyla. Then this morning he'd caught Ford giving the ordinance Disney names. A Marine that bored could only lead to trouble. 

Which brought him to Rodney. John hadn't been kidding about Rodney running him through a barrage of sensory tests. He kept coming up with creative ideas for John to try. They weren't all successful, but he really did feel like he was getting them under control. He hadn't had a spike in four days. 

He turned a pencil over in his hands, feigning nonchalance and bracing for Weir's next question.

"And what about the zone out?" 

Damn. One minute John had been standing in the gate room looking at the gate and wondering what made the glyphs light up, and the next he was on the floor with Teyla tangled up on top of him. She must have put her radio to his ear because he could distinctly remember hearing Rodney's voice calling to him. 

"Teyla's quick action saved you from being caught in the backwash. She saved your life, John." 

"Can she get a commendation for that?" 

"I'll see what I can do," she said dryly. 

John couldn't explain what happened. He'd never heard anyone announce, 'Gate activation', never heard the warning, and didn't remember Teyla tackling him, shoving him out of the danger zone. At least no one had called it a fainting spell. 

"Even if Dr. Beckett clears you for duty, Major, what about Dr. McKay?" she asked. 

"He's fine."

"Oh, really." Her gaze questioned John's quick answer and he sat up straighter. 

"Ever since we moved in together, he hasn't and any more episodes." Well, none he'd told him about. Rodney was as anxious to get out in the field and look for a ZPM as John was. "Whatever he's doing he's managing just fine. In fact, Carson's already cleared him. I think you could say, McKay's back to being McKay again." 

Except for one little thing. Not once had Rodney brought up the subject of sex again. 

He felt certain he'd persuaded Elizabeth to see his side, but before she could say anything, his radio came on. 

"Major Sheppard, come in."

John tapped his earwig. "Sheppard here. Is there a problem, Sergeant Bates?"

"We came back from the mainland early after we ran into something interesting. We found the remains of what looks like a crashed dart, sir."

Catching Elizabeth's nod he said, "Meet me in Dr. Weir's office ASAP. Sheppard out."

Not just Bates, but Stackhouse, Halling, and Teyla all gathered in Weir’s office. There was no sign of McKay or Ford but before he could ease his curiosity, Dr. Weir signaled for Bates to speak.

"We did a flyover, looking for a safe place for the Athosians to settle just as you directed, ma’am." 

Halling nodded. "Yes, we'd hoped to find a sheltered cove, one with good land for our crops. Instead we found evidence of the Wraith."

"You found a crashed dart but no sign of the Wraith?" Weir’s brow furrowed in concern. "Was there any indication that there was more than one?"

"No ma’am. We think it was a lone scout," Bates said. "I should add we don't know how many years it might have been there. It could be long dead by now.

Teyla shot a glare in Sergeant Bates’ direction. "Dr. Weir, my people do not treat this lightly. The Wraith have no conscience. They send their darts out to scout and will leave them to die if they cannot make their own way back to their ship."

Halling nodded in agreement. "Surely, Dr. Weir, you understand that efforts must be made to make certain it poses no threat if any of us are to move to the mainland."

"I do agree. Major Sheppard, please organize a patrol to go to the mainland to deal with this."

John noticed she didn't ask him to put his own team on it, damn it. "Consider it done."

Meeting over, John retreated to his office. He made a tally of their resources, what they needed vs. what they actually had available for the mission. With a sigh, he crossed out the line, _four times the number of Marines_. He was about to call Teyla and ask for her input when a call come in over his radio.

"Major Sheppard, Ford here. You need to come to the mess. Something weird is up with Dr. McKay."

Guilt shot through John. God, Rodney had told him he'd had a meltdown in the mess just last week. What if this was another one? "On my way. And, Ford, stay with him until I get there."

John ran. And no, the irony of first running away from Rodney and then running to him wasn't lost on him. He rounded the corner and skidded to a stop just inside the mess. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong. 

Ford stood at Rodney's table shaking his head. "You, really don't want to eat that, Dr. McKay. You told me you were allergic to it, remember?" 

"But I'm starving! Nothing here is any good." Rodney waved his hand over a table laden with different kinds of food. "Just looking at it leaves me feeling even hungrier." 

John stepped closer to Rodney's table. He reeled back, his nose suddenly assaulted by a horrible stench. "What is that hellacious smell, Lieutenant Ford?" 

Ford looked around the table as if it were personally responsible. "I don't smell anything, sir."

Teyla and Bates joined them but before John could ask them if they could smell anything, Teyla held up her hand. "Major Sheppard, I sense the presence of a Wraith here in Atlantis."

"We believe it's the one from the mainland, sir," Bates added. "Miss Emmagan thinks, and I agree, it must have seen the jumper flying back to Atlantis and swam here."

"It can swim that far?" John asked. 

"I am certain it could." Teyla glanced at Rodney and his table of half-eaten food. "Dr. McKay, if you were to sense feelings in the Wraith would they not be feelings of hunger?"

Rodney dropped his pudding cup. "Oh god, you're right. John, there's Wraith in Atlantis!"

"Yeah, we've kind of figured that out. They stink too." John wrinkled his nose. "At least it's not going to be hard to track."

*** 

John was right. Between Teyla’s Wraith sense, Rodney’s hunger pangs, and his sense of smell, they hardly needed to use a life signs detector to find the Wraith. That didn't make it any less dangerous. 

Moving quietly, Ford took point, Teyla flank, and John kept pace with Rodney, grimly determined to protect him. 

He leaned over and whispered, "I wasn’t sure you’d come with us, what with the emo-thing and all."

"Yes, well let's just say I owe it payback for sharing its indigestion." 

He caught the quicksilver flash of a crooked smile just before Rodney added, "And just possibly it's good to finally be doing something." 

With the team. Rodney didn't need to add those words for John to know exactly what he meant. 

Cautiously working their way up the tower stairwell, John called a halt as they neared the top. He pointed up. "It’s up on the top ledge." He moved out onto the balcony for a better look.

"What’s it doing?" Ford asked. 

"It looks like it’s trying to attach something to the outside of the tower."

"Is it a bomb, do you think, sir?" Ford asked. "Do we need to find cover?"

"John, use your vision for a closer look," Rodney said. "Describe it to me."

"It’s a bad angle. I don't know if I can…." The device wasn't much larger than a block of C4. Worse, the Wraith was still working on it, and his body kept blocking John's line of sight.

Teyla kept her P-90 trained on the Wraith while Ford grabbed John by the belt, supporting him as he leaned over the edge. Not that he didn't trust Ford, but it was a long drop down. 

He felt better when Rodney stepped up and settled his hand in the small of his back. "Start by finding your horizon line, Sheppard." 

John relaxed. He’d trusted his senses in Rodney's hands so many times by now it was easy to do it again. "Got it. Now what?"

"Now adjust the pitch until you're able to zoom in on the device. Think about needing a closer look."

"I see some wires. There's buttons – three of them. Weird looking things, like moldy mushrooms. Damn it. One of them has been pushed in already."

"John, is it a timer?" Teyla asked.

"I can't tell."

"Focus on the wires, John. Do you see three or four?" Rodney prompted.

"Okay, that's a little tougher." John felt Rodney's hand rubbing gentle circles on his back and relaxed into it. "Four. There's definitely four."

"Good. That's enough. Pull back now and level off." 

John did, pausing to rub his eyes. "Well?"

Rodney stopped rubbing his back, leaving a cold spot behind. "If I'm right that fourth wire is part of the communications antenna so we can probably rule out a bomb."

Feet back square on the floor, John set his P-90 to full auto. "We need to take this fucker out before it gets loose in the city. Fire on my signal."

Aside from an occasional hiss in their direction, the Wraith ignored the gunfire. But Teyla was relentless, and John had to give her credit for managing to annoy it.

The Wraith snarled and jumped down onto the balcony below them, swiping his arm out and nearly taking John's head off in the process. It landed on its feet, turned to escape into the city, and ran directly into a platoon of heavily armed Marines.

"I figured it couldn't hurt to call for backup, sir." Ford grinned. "You were a little preoccupied with concentrating on the device."

"Good work, Lieutenant Ford." John grinned back. Damn he loved his team.

It still took a ridiculous amount of ordinance to bring it down. Even then, John fired another full round into it to make sure it was dead. In his opinion, it didn't smell any better dead then it did alive. 

"Lieutenant Ford, have Stackhouse bring a jumper and get rid of this thing. If Carson doesn't want the body, drop into the deepest part of the ocean. But first get that device off my tower and take it to the lab. We need to know if it sent a signal.

Teyla offered to go with them, which left John standing on the deck with Rodney. John hesitated then decided to stop being a big chicken. He slung his arm over Rodney's shoulder and gave him a big one-armed hug. "It's late, McKay, let's get back."

"Just like that? All of this –" Rodney motioned between the two of them, "it's all fine now?"

"We just found out we work great as a team, and… maybe I'm not completely averse to finding out what else we might be great at."

"Oh. Oh!" Rodney's face turned that interesting shade of red again, and this time John let himself wonder just how far down his flush went. 

When Rodney grabbed his arm and tugged, he let himself be pulled along to the nearest transporter. "In a hurry, McKay?"

"Yes. And don't tell me you're not. I can feel – . He looked up at John in amazement. You're letting me feel what you're feeling." He still held John's hand and he looked down at their entwined fingers. "This is going to create an interesting feedback loop."

"Hm." John backed Rodney up against the wall, making his intentions clear. "I have to admit this whole not needing to talk thing is working for me."

Lips parted, Rodney tilted his head back. John leaned in and sniffed at the nape of his neck. Rodney smelled like clean flannel sheets and warm ginger cookies. And god, John couldn't get enough of it. Contentment curled through him. Why the hell had he been denying himself? He could have had this a week ago if he hadn't been such a stubborn bastard. 

"We should…back to the room…." Rodney gasped. 

"Yeah." Rodney was right, there was no privacy here and John had zero interest in providing a peep show. 

He took a reluctant step back. Rodney's eyes followed him and John had to admit the blatant appreciation made him want to puff out his chest. "We can't."

"What? Yes we can. We so can. Do you need reasons? I can come up reasons." 

"I meant we have to find out if the Wraith device sent out a signal. I'd kind of like to know if we've just invited company for dinner."

"Is that all?" Rodney asked with relief. "Zelenka will let me know as soon as he finds out anything. And if the Wraith are on their way, it's only sensible to get in a last night of nookie."

"Nookie." Rodney was brilliant, funny, and disarmingly dorky in a way John completely understood. And Rodney wanted him. Wanted him with an open, guileless want that John rarely ran into. A fission of anticipation ran down his spine. "God forbid you should be denied nookie."

Rodney grinned back. "I knew you'd see it my way."

*** 

He'd wanted to undress Rodney himself. John had been thinking about it, what it would be like to peel off that science uniform piece by piece to reveal the man underneath. Rodney had beat him to it. Of course he had. 

By the time John got out of the shower, Rodney had already finished his bath and was stretched out on the bed. Their bed now, if he had anything to say about it. He didn't waste time being disappointed, not the way Rodney looked, laying there, accessible and naked except for a pair of boxers. He supposed it was fair. John wasn't wearing anything either except for towel slung low around his hips. 

"Need to ask you something." John ran his hand over his bare chest, mostly to watch Rodney's eyes darken with lust. "You seemed to know where this connection was leading before anyone else did. Care to explain?"

"You want to discuss particle physics now?" Rodney looked both turned on and horrified. 

"I guess we can save it for later." John let his towel drop. 

In two strides, he was at Rodney's side. Rodney was manfully struggling to get his boxers off, hindered by an erection that kept trying to poke through the cotton flap. 

"Slow down, McKay, I've got this. Can't have you damaging the merchandise before I get a taste." 

Eyes wide, Rodney stilled.

"I never imagined sex would make you quiet," John chuckled. He pushed Rodney's hands away, pinning his wrists and firmly placing them above his head. "Keep them right there." 

It was both a surprise and an unexpected turn on when Rodney obeyed. John deftly untangled the twisted mess he'd made of his boxers, and carefully began easing them down, making sure they didn't catch on Rodney's eager cock. He stopped mid-process halted by the sight of Rodney's heavy sack framed by the dark elastic of his boxers. 

He wasn't about to admit it in the face of Rodney's arousal, but the only cock John had any expertise in was his own. He wasn't too worried about it. Getting a guy to come just wasn't that complicated. 

He stared down at Rodney's flushed, hard cock, unable to look away. As he watched, a wet drop of precome beaded up. Riveted by the sight, John licked his lips. For the first time it hit him that he was going to get a lot more out of this than just satisfying his partner. 

"Dying man here, Sheppard. Take a picture if you need to but do something!"

"If you insist." With a wolfish leer, he pulled Rodney's boxers all the way off, and tossed them out of the way.

Rodney sighed in relief and spread his legs, making a perfect place for John fit in between. Interestingly enough, he still kept his hands above his head where John had placed them. Lying there, he looked like an offering to every god John hadn't known he wanted pray to. 

"Are you using your enhanced senses on me?" Rodney asked. "Because it feels like – and by feels like I mean I'm getting a definite reading from you."

John placed one finger over Rodney's mouth to quiet him. "Just let me."

"Okay, okay, but focus on only one sense at a time. I don't want you overloading. Not just because I'm concerned about my own impending sexual frustration. Which is obviously part of it, but because I…uh…because of other stuff."

"Good advice." His heart warmed with the knowledge that Rodney, in his own way was trying to protect him. 

As much as he wanted to move forward with taste, touch had to come first. John stroked two fingers down Rodney's chest, raising the pitch on his sense of touch. Under his fingertips, he could feel blood warmed skin, and the breath in Rodney's lungs.

Concentrating, he could feel each individual hair. There was so much lush softness over hard muscle that John struggled not to get lost in it. As he drew his hand lower, the heat from Rodney's erection felt like an inferno and he had to pull back. 

"Are you okay?" Rodney asked.

"Yeah, just a lot of input." John had a feeling he could spend an entire day touching Rodney and it wouldn't be enough. 

Rodney's sturdy cock was leaking heavily now. "Feedback loop working for you?" John teased. His strangled groan was answer enough. 

Now for taste and it was about time. It was all there for the taking. Holding Rodney's cock steady with one hand he was glad he'd brought touch back down to normal.

Maybe it was the feedback loop and knowing exactly what this was doing to Rodney, but he'd been right. One sense at a time was the only way he was going to get through this without blowing his wad like a sixteen year old. 

There wasn't a guy alive who hadn't thought about sucking himself off, if he were only bendy enough. John was no exception. It hit him then; this was going to be as close as he would ever get to that. 

John swiped his tongue over the head of Rodney's cock getting his first taste. Rodney moaned and that made his own cock grow harder. Stopping to catch his breath, John reached down to give himself a sympathetic tug. He looked up to see Rodney's eyes riveted to his hand action. With a smug grin, he rolled his hips, fucking his hand a couple more times just because he could. 

"Bastard."

"Now now. Is that anyway to speak to the man that's about to give you a blowjob?"

Figuring he'd teased them both enough, John leaned down for a second taste. He rolled his tongue over the spongy head then stopped to lick his lips. There was a scent there he wanted to chase down, but he reminded himself that he was saving scent for later. Rodney's taste was mildly salty and not too different from his own, except there was a flavor he couldn't identify. Something pure Rodney.

Intrigued, he opened his mouth wide enough to capture the entire head of Rodney's cock. Intense flavor burst across his tongue, threatening to send him into a zone out. Groaning, he worked his throat, sucking hard and swallowing desperately. His awareness narrowed to raw need. Need to suck Rodney in deeper, need to take everything Rodney could give. 

"Oh fuck! That's – ." Rodney's brought his hands down and curled his fingers into John's hair. "Don't stop." 

Encouraged, John used his mouth and tongue to explore every inch. In time, he'd get better at controlling his senses, and when he did, John vowed to combine touch and taste while sucking Rodney off. He just needed to be able to do it without coming within two seconds. 

Rodney pushed at his head and John pulled off, smacking his lips. "Too much?"

"You have no idea."

John leaned over and husked in Rodney's ear, "Wrong. The feedback loop goes both ways. I know exactly what I'm doing to you. And I know you love it."

Rodney collapsed back onto bed with a whimper.

"Hm, touch and taste, I'd call them both a success. Vision next? Then hearing, I think. Smell, I'm saving for last, I want to know what you smell like after you've come."

Rodney weakly flapped a hand in the air, in a get-on-with-it gesture. But his eyes were sharp under his heavy-lidded gaze.

There was so much to look at, that at first John couldn't decide what to focus on. He remembered the day Rodney told him to find something pleasing to look at. He'd automatically focused on Rodney's face. He could've gotten lost in the thick forest of those eyelashes. 

But there was something else he'd never seen, and he wasn't about to waste the opportunity. He nudged at Rodney's hip encouraging him to roll onto his belly. "Turn over." 

"Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm but this isn't all that comfortable you know."

"Right. Here." John handed him a pillow and helped Rodney adjusted it under his hips so that his erection had room to swing free. Jesus. Talk about a vision. John swallowed thickly, feeling like doing a little whimpering of his own. "I've really got to figure out how to combine sight, touch and taste."

"You're killing me."

"And you need to stop humping the pillow, McKay. It's interfering with my plan."

"Plan my ass!"

"Exactly." John laid his hand on Rodney's hip, stilling him. "Just let me do this."

Grumpily agreeing with an, "Oh fuck," Rodney made an effort to hold still and John pretended not to notice the way he was digging his fingernails into the mattress. 

John brought his vision online. He ran his thumb down the shadowed crack of Rodney's ass. Stopped and did it again, slower this time, taking it all in inch by inch. He followed it with his eyes and his fingers, all the way down to Rodney's asshole.

Time to use hearing. He pressed his thumb against Rodney's hole, just holding it there, more of a promise than any action. Rodney's groans filled his ears. Underneath that, John could hear his heartbeat, the pulse in his veins, and some very explicit swearing. 

"Are you done worshiping the altar of my ass? Not that you'd be the first to – . Are you growling?"

"No one else, McKay. Not ever. Are we clear?"

"Idiot." Rodney turned over to face him. "I've haven't wanted anyone else since you sat in that damn control chair and turned it on."

"Were you ever going to tell me?" John asked, feeling gobsmacked.

"Honestly? I was hoping I'd get over it because I couldn't see it ever going anywhere. Clearly, that was short-sighted." 

John snorted and Rodney punched him in the shoulder. "That wasn't meant to be a pun, you dork." 

John was still grinning when Rodney's expression turned predatory. "Sensory play time is over, Sheppard. Now it's my turn." 

Catching him by surprise – a good surprise – Rodney cupped John's cheek, leaned in, and kissed him. The moment their lips met John realized this is what he'd been missing. The press of Rodney's lips against his was gentle – until it wasn't. 

Kissing Rodney wasn't anything like kissing a woman. His mouth was wide and hot. His tongue, slick and powerful, worked its way into John's mouth demanding attention. Somehow, Rodney managed to put everything between them into that kiss. All the raw newness, love, passion, and connection. 

"Rodney, " John gasped. "I want…I need…."

"I know, John. I know better than anyone. I've got you."

John let Rodney push him down on the bed and knew immediately that things were going to get interesting when Rodney straddled him.

He slid his hands slowly down the length of John's body. "Feel that? I've always got you."

There was nothing sweet or gentle about the intent in those hands. Rodney's strong, calloused fingers played over his body and plucked at his nipples. John arched into their touch.

Before the words _smug bastard_ could leave his mouth, Rodney had his hand on John's cock. Looking down, because how could he not, he watched as Rodney pulled at his own cock to line it up beside John's.

"Together. We're going to do this together." 

He thought they'd been connected before. He was wrong. Emotions began flowing between them. Somehow, Rodney had opened the floodgates and everything, every feeling, every sensation, reaction, hidden passion and yes, wild abandon became part of him. Part of them. "Rodney!"

"Got you got you got you." 

John couldn't take his eyes of Rodney's hands. With every pull and slide, his knuckles brushed against John's belly turning up the heat. Maybe it was the feedback loop but Rodney seemed to know exactly how tight and how rough John needed it. Rodney's cock rubbed hot and solid up against John's and it felt perfect.

He was leaking heavily now and so was Rodney. The lubrication helped and Rodney used it. His stokes came harder and faster. Groaning, John grabbed Rodney's ass and pulled him even closer. Needing to move he rocked his hips up, helplessly grinding up against him. 

When he came, John saw stars.

Coming out of his daze, he stared stupidly at the wetness spreading between them. Rodney blinked down at him. He still straddled John's hips but he was beginning to list to one side and his hands were covered in come. 

Fascinated, John lifted up one of Rodney's hands. Slowly, thoroughly, he sucked their combined come off every one of his fingers.

"That is so hot." Rodney looked completely undone. John would have teased him about the goofy expression on his face except he suspected he wore the exact same expression. 

His bones felt melted but he had enough strength left to pull Rodney down on top of him and growl, "Scent now." 

Rodney snuffled into his shoulder and that was just fine with him. The heady scent of the two of them wafted through John's senses. It smelled like coming home.

*** 

John took his tea over to the balcony and stared out over the ocean. He didn't think he'd ever grow tired of the view. Rodney had told him he was being ridiculous, but John thought the seas seemed bluer in Pegasus. And to think they'd almost lost it all. He didn't regret for heartbeat risking everything to save Earth. But thank god the SGC and the IOA had actually been on the same page about getting Atlantis back the Pegasus galaxy.

Things could have gone very differently. He knew Woolsey and O'Neill had a deciding hand in getting them back, and maybe he'd even ask about it one day. Not today. Today he had his own reports to deal with.

John took a sip of his tea letting its honeyed flavor roll over his taste buds. If he concentrated, he thought he could taste sunshine. When he'd mentioned that discovery to Rodney, he'd gotten a soft "Oh" and a sharp look of interest for his trouble. John had immediately dropped to his knees and given Rodney a hot, wet distraction to keep him from thinking up a dozen new tests. 

He knew he should get back. Call break time over, go back to his office, and write up the last of his reports. Not to mention the requisition forms waiting for his approval. Enhanced senses or no, his talents wouldn't save him from Rodney's ire if they didn't get resupply of coffee soon.

But he was restless. He chalked it up to Rodney going off world without him. John tried to shake some sense into himself. Ronon and Teyla were with him, and they were visiting people that they'd been allies with for years. It should be a cakewalk with the excitement level of a miss-shelved library book. If anything, he should be relieved that he and Rodney could tolerate this kind of separation for this long.

In those first, early days, they'd managed his sensory spikes and Rodney's emotional buffering by moving in together. By unspoken agreement, they stayed close to each other and touched often. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. To say thing's had evolved from there would be a hell of an understatement. 

Still, he didn't have to like Rodney being off world without him. Drumming the side of his cup with impatient fingers, John decided it wouldn't hurt to take a stroll to the Gate room. After all, his team just might decide to check in early. As he walked, his step quickened. By the time he got there, he was almost running. 

"Chuck, any word?" 

"None, sir. But Dr. McKay still has thirty minutes before their next check in is due."

John nodded. Bless Chuck, he knew exactly what John needed to hear without the need to go into further explanations. "Dial up the gate. Tell Woolsey I'm checking on my team."

"Is something wrong with Dr. McKay, sir?" Chuck asked, already dialing.

"I don't know yet, but…." John rubbed the back of his neck, hesitant to reveal what he privately called the oogly-wooglies. "It can't wait. I need to leave now. I'll radio in as soon as I have more information."

*** 

John stepped through the gate and straight into the waiting barrel of Ronon's blaster. "Whoa." He held up his hands before he'd barely skittered to a halt. "What do say you put the gun down, big guy, and tell me what's going on?"

Ronon lowered his weapon but his expression remained grim. "Good timing, Sheppard."

Before John could ask for details, Teyla stepped forward. "John, we have no time to waste. We must get Dr. Zelenka to come here right away."

John's blood ran cold. "Where's Rodney?"

"Gone. Taken at gunpoint." The cold fury in Ronon's voice was a perfect match for John's mood.

"Yes." Teyla met his eyes, even though John could see it cost her. "It was our folly to think we were safe. We – I – let down my guard. But if we move quickly, Dr. Zelenka may be able to decode the DHD and tell us where Rodney was taken."

John forced himself to keep calm. "How long ago?"

"They escaped just before you came through the gate," Ronon said.

John couldn't help notice Ronon kept his blaster set on kill. There was a high probability that whoever had taken Rodney wasn't going to live very long to regret it, and some primal part of him thoroughly agreed. 

"Has anyone else touched the DHD since they dialed out?" John asked.

Teyla shook her head no, and John stepped up to study the DHD. Seeing the fingerprints was the easy part. They were also familiar. They were Rodney's. However, detecting their thermal signature, that was a little trickier. John took a deep breath. He'd practiced this, at Rodney's insistence. Which meant Rodney would have done anything he could to help John track him.

That wily bastard must have rubbed his hands together before hitting the glyphs. His kidnappers wouldn't catch the significance, but Rodney had outwitted them by making sure to leave a clear heat trail behind. Under John's enhanced sight, the tiles lit up like Christmas. All he had to do now was mark the order from most faded to bright and he'd have the address. 

Teyla laid her hand on his arm helping to ground him. Rodney had made them practice this too. She might not know exactly what he was doing, but she recognized his intent.

"Got it. Let's go." John began dialing. He almost missed the glance shared between Ronon and Teyla. "What?"

"Should we not wait for back up?" Teyla asked.

"No time. We need to hurry in case Rodney's kidnappers dial another gate address. We can't afford to get too far behind." 

The gate engaged and John let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Once they were through, he ran up to the DHD. "No sign of a thermal signature. They stopped here." John quickly scanned the area. "We were right behind them, where are they?"

Ronon pointed to wheel tracks leading away from the gate. "Someone was here waiting for them and took them away." He followed the trail for a few paces. "Sheppard, there's no sign of beast tracks."

John sniffed the air. "Smells like a combustion engine." 

They didn't see many of those in the Pegasus galaxy. Inhabitants tended to keep their technology a secret like the Genii, or never developed it in the first place in case it caught the attention of the Wraith. But, it did give some insight as to what they wanted Rodney for. No doubt someone had plans for him to fix some broken piece of crap machinery. 

Ronon must have come to the same conclusion because he put his weapon back on stun. "They'll keep him alive, Sheppard, and he's no good to them if he's hurt."

"Teyla, radio Woolsey and fill him in," John said. "Request a jumper but make sure the pilot brings it in cloaked. There's no sense tipping our hand."

"What have you got in mind, Sheppard?" Ronon asked. 

"First, we're going to find where they're keeping Rodney, and then we're kidnapping him back."

*** 

As much as he wanted to run after the kidnappers and rescue Rodney, he waited and ran through a list of their options. With a jumper, they could track McKay's sub-cue. They'd also have some extra firepower if needed. Besides, he wanted a couple of Marines to stand guard at the gate, just in case those bastards changed their minds and tried to gate Rodney off world. 

The minutes ticked away. Ronon couldn't stand still and he paced in circles, while Teyla came as close to fidgeting as he'd ever seen her. 

"It's not your fault," John said, trying to reassure her. "The kidnappers had this well planned, and frankly, I appreciate it that the two of you didn't do anything that could've gotten Rodney killed."

"Thank you, John. Your words are appreciated, but I cannot forgive myself until we have Rodney back safe." She gave him a sharp look. "Why are you so calm?"

John rubbed the back of his neck, trying and failing to keep a sheepish look at bay. "Um, I can hear him. They broke down about a klick from here and he's swearing up a storm." 

Teyla looked ready to smack him one and Ronon's glare had a definite snarl to it. John decided it would be prudent to cough up a few more details. "He's running off at the mouth because he knows we'll be looking for him and he's hoping I'll hear him."

"And did it not cross your mind to inform us that you were extending your hearing in this way and risking a zone out?" Teyla asked, clearly displeased.

John held up his hands in surrender. "Guys, really, it wasn't that risky. I didn't even think about it. I'm just automatically tuned into him, I guess." Before he could dig himself in any deeper, the jumper arrived. Thank god. 

John could have taken over and piloted the jumper, but he needed to concentrate on Rodney's directions.

"John, I'm trusting you can hear me." Rodney's voice sounded muffled now, as if he were trying to keep from being overheard. "These moron's have no idea what kind of trouble they're in. But, before you come rushing in like Mounties to the rescue, I want a chance to examine their technology. I had a chance to look at their engine when it broke down, and let's just say it had some interesting features. I got it fixed, but it's not going to go very far." John could hear the smug chuckle in Rodney's voice when he added, "I didn't fix everything."

With a thought, John pulled up the jumper's display. "Sergeant Stackhouse, our target is heading for the nearest town. Drop us off as close as you can get without being detected. My team will take it from there."

*** 

As rescues went, this one had more hurry-up-and-wait to it than John cared for, but it still came as a surprise when the trail led them straight to the center of town. 

They'd tracked Rodney and his kidnappers to a building that resembled a courthouse straight out of the 1930's. Other than a few curious glances, the townspeople ignored them as the climbed the steps. On point, John stepped through the entrance. Dark, polished wood and parquet flooring opened onto a long hall. Looking around, John raised his eyebrows. Huh, not exactly a secret hideout. "I think we may need your diplomatic skills on this one, Teyla."

"What is it?" Ronon asked. 

John shook his head. "I'm not sure. Rodney's being unusually quiet. But some kind of meeting is going on behind those closed doors. 

"Can you tell what they're saying?" Teyla asked. 

John closed his eyes and concentrated. This would go so much easier if Rodney were the one speaking. 

"They want…huh. I'll be damned, we were wrong. They don't want Rodney for his smarts, or his engineering skills. Someone just told one of them that Rodney has the ability to influence people. They think he has some kind of mind control thing going on. They want him to…." John scowled. "Huh, that can't be right…."

Before John could explain, the door swung open. Standing in front of them were four men in long, black robes. Silently they parted, and with a single gesture indicated that John and his team should enter the room. 

Rodney sat inside, along with a young lady who looked to be in her teens, and a young man of similar age. 

"I don't care what they say, or how much the Great McKay tries to sway me," the girl huffed, I'm not marrying you, Thane."

"Well, I don't want to marry you either, Hira. I'd rather eat glass than share a house with you," Thane snapped back with a sneer.

John sighed. Less than an hour in Rodney's company and these two were already sounding like him. 

Ronon advanced on the robed men. "Why do you want McKay?"

"We need him!" Distraught, the man's face was beginning to turn an alarming shade of red.

"And who are you?" John asked. 

"I am Magistrate Corman." Thoroughly rattled, he visibly tried to regain his composure. "To my left is councilman Rabine, and to my right is councilman Lorth." He stopped to share a quick glance with his compatriots. "We must have the Great McKay's help. Without it, the very peace of our government is threatened."

Hira gathered up her long skirts, and ignoring the men, she stepped forward to speak with Teyla. 

"You are Lady Emmagan, I have heard of you. We have heard of all of you. Lady Emmagan the Wise, Ronon Dex the Brave, and of course, the Guardian Colonel, and the Great McKay." Hira bowed her head. "I implore you, please help me. These men intend to force me to marry that pimply-faced cretin, Thane, just to gain control of my father's lands. I ask that you do not let them get away with this."

"Force you. How?" Teyla asked.

"By the power of the Great McKay. The power of his influence is well known throughout the lands." Hira clasped her hands to either side of her head and moaned dramatically. "With a single thought he can make me desire to marry that…that moron!"

John coughed into his hand. Once he could keep a straight face he waved Rodney over. "McKay, get over here and stop threatening this young lady." With a light shove he made certain Rodney stood behind both him and Ronon. 

"Sorry Magistrate, councilmen, but we're here to take Rodney home." John waved his finger in Corman's face. "It's not nice to take something that's not yours." His voice dropped into something dark and threatening when he added, "Never again, because next time I won't be so nice about it."

Teyla put her arm around Hira's shoulder. "Come, we will take you to your home."

"But, but what will we do?" Corman protested.

"For starters, let the kids make up their own minds," John said. "I find things tend to work out better that way."

Rodney cleared his throat.

Right. Rodney wanted a look at their tech, but the last thing John wanted was to have Rodney anywhere near this planet.

Ronon came to his rescue. "Sheppard, send Woolsey and Zelenka."

"That's a good idea. Woolsey can introduce these fellows to the fascinating world of contract law, and Zelenka tell us if there's anything interesting here that we should know about." John pushed a squabbling, protesting Rodney towards the door. "Come on, Rodney, you don't want it to get around that the Great McKay made us late for our ride."

*** 

"I can't believe you're not going to let me go back." Rodney settled down on their couch, still warm and pink skinned from his shower. He propped his feet up on their coffee table, and for a few moments John couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight of his bare toes. 

"John?"

"You're not going back, so forget about it." John sat down next to him nudging him in the side with his elbow. "Did you see Woolsey's face when he got to the part about The Great McKay?" 

"I'm never going to live that down am I?"

"Nope."

"The Great McKay. You know, it does have a nice ring to it." 

Later, there was one thing John could always say about McKay's tragic kidnapping. The ensuing pillow fight was epic.

~***~


End file.
